Twelfth Night
by StinaGinge
Summary: Guinevere and Tristan. Tristan and Guinevere. You never get one twin without the other. But with one twin missing for a good portion of the time and the other pretending to be someone they're not, the usual can hardly be expected. But add a lovestruck Sirius, a vengeful Regulus and a dismissive Marlene, and sit back and relax, because I assure you, this story shall not disappoint.
1. Chapter 1

"Come on Evie! Get a move on!"  
"I'm doing my best Tristan!" She screeched back. "Why don't you get your lazy arse up here and help me for a change? And don't call me Evie!"  
"I could." He shouted back. "But where would be the fun in that?"  
A frustrated screech could be heard from above them, causing Tristan to wince, he had experienced his sister's temper one-to-many times before. "You are so infuriating Tristan Wolfe!" She ranted. "If it weren't for the fact you were my brother I wouldn't want to have anything to do with you!"  
"Love you too Evie!" He called back, his face an expression of glee. No matter how much it hurt his ears to hear his sister angry, it was _always _amusing.

After what seemed like an age his sister finally made it down the stairs, lugging her trunk behind her and looking very red faced indeed.  
"You took your time," He commented casually.  
"Sorry about that, you see I have this prat of a brother,-" She broke off at here to stare at him pointedly, "-who refused to help me pack."  
"In all fairness you should have packed last night..." he commented casually.  
"Oh, here we go again! You sound like mother when you talk like that!"  
"Speaking of mother..." He commented softly.  
As if on cue, their mother appeared from the dining room to their left. She was dressed in 'high fashion' clothing and looked as excited as they felt.  
"Off to Hogwarts today!" She sung, flinging her arms wide.  
"Yes mother," They both sighed in unison. Neither of them had wanted to transfer from their old school in America to go to Hogwarts.  
"I remember my Hogwarts days, I was sorted into Ravenclaw with Daphne, we were best friends-" she rambled on her, face drifting into a dreamlike state. After a while she seemed to have reached the end of her trail, "So, what was all that shouting about?"  
"Evie didn't pack…again." Tristan drawled.  
"Guinevere dear, I tell you every year to pack on time! You really should have packed last night!" She shared a look with her brother at this and though he hated to admit it, Tristan agreed he sounded like their mother.

An hour later they still hadn't left the house. Tristan was the one who took the time to glance at his watch and shout, "Merlin! We're going to miss the train!"  
"Oh great!" Guinevere exclaimed. "We're going to miss the train now, because of you Tristan!"  
"Because of me?" He exclaimed indignantly. "I seem to remember someone spending an hour packing and repacking, then repacking her trunk once more!"  
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She said sarcastically. "I was merely making use of my time while you argued with mother over how we are to get to King's Cross! I mean, does it really matter whether we use Floo Powder or apparation?"  
"Enough, you two! We've wasted enough time. Now, grab onto my arm, we're going to have to apparate to King's cross."  
"But-"  
"No buts!"

The sickening sensation of apparition followed and soon they stood on the platform of King's Cross station, clutching their trunks tightly. One by one, they subtly slipped through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. Whatever they had expected to see, it wasn't the sight that awaited them. There was no scarlet train; no swarms of excited children polluting the platform.  
"Er, did we get the right day?" Guinevere asked.  
A brief look at their train tickets told them they had indeed got the right day. "Right, I'm going to have to apparate you into Hogsmeade now, you can walk the rest of the way," their mother decided.  
"I don't see why we don't just delay the trip to school," Tristan complained in an undertone to his sister.  
"I know! And apparition is hardly the most pleasing sensation." Guinevere replied,  
No matter how many complaints she received from her offspring, Gloria Wolfe had always been determined to get her children to Hogwarts. She hadn't seen the point in sending them to that _American school_ in the first place, they were bound to be kicked out at some point and make their way to Hogwarts. Well, Guinevere was at least, and with one twin you always got another.

Upon arrival at Hogsmeade, Gloria Wolfe instantly switched into over-protective-mother mode. "Now, you behave yourselves this year! Behaving badly is not going to earn your place back at Salem! Guinevere dear, try to keep your hair under control! First impressions are everything! Tristan, I think you have some dirt on your cheek-" she reached her hand out to rub it off, but Tristan pushed it away, an embarrassed look on his face.  
"Mum..." He mumbled, half-complaining.  
"Tristan do try to ignore the example your sister sets you. I'll see you both at Christmas! Have a nice term! Don't you roll your eyes at me young lady! Fine, I'm going now…Love you!" and with that, their mother was gone.

"At last!" Guinevere exclaimed. "I thought she was never going to leave!" Tristan chuckled his agreement.  
"So," He said.  
"So," Guinevere echoed. But her 'so' meant something completely different to his. He was intending to head straight for Hogwarts. Guinevere, however, had other plans.  
"Evie…" He warned her. Tristan knew his sister, and at that point he could see the smirk on her face. The smirk that meant she was planning something.  
"What?" She replied, looking like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "And I've told you not to call me Evie, Tristan."  
Before Tristan could open his mouth to call her 'Evie' again, he was cut off by his twin sister, "I was merely suggesting we take a quick look around Hogsmeade." She said, gesturing to the village that lay in front of them.  
Tristan knew his sister too well to even think it would be a 'quick look', Dumbledore would be lucky if he received his two newest students in time for the sorting ceremony. His mother really should have known better than to leave them here, alone.  
"Please, Tristan?" She asked him, fluttering her eyelids to complete the picture.  
"Fine…" He said, he always knew he was going to give in. It wasn't that he was a pushover, it was simply due to the fact his little sister could be _very _persuasive.

It was safe to say that over the next few hours, the Wolfe twins had the best fun they'd had in years. They bought so much chocolate they thought they would be sick from Honeydukes. They scared themselves silly with old stories and tales of the Shrieking Shack. They (Guinevere) bought various products from Zonko's which would inspire one of their mother's famous, ever-lasting rants. They (Tristan) spent ages in the Tomes and Scrolls, uhm-ing and ahh-ing over which book to buy. They spent a large portion of their time in The Three Broomsticks, warming up with a couple of Butterbeers.  
"I-" Tristan began while they sat in The Three Broomsticks.  
"-think it was high time we should go now?" Guinevere guessed. "Yeah, I guess so."

With a resigned expression on their faces they turned to head leave the pub. It had become somewhat colder (and darker) in their absence, and Guinevere was forced to put a coat on after much nagging from her brother.  
"Right. Where do we go?" She asked.  
"Er…that way?" He guessed, pointing towards a forest with a track running through it.  
"You have no idea where we're going, do you?" Guinevere asked, a smirk on her face.  
"No."  
"Well, I guess we'll just have to ask for directions, won't we?"  
"No. I'll work it out."  
Guinevere let out a long and exaggerated sigh before asking (though who to neither of them was sure), "What _is_ it with men and directions?"  
"We don't need directions!" Tristan insisted.  
"Ugh! You're all the same! We're _obviously _lost! Just ask for directions!"  
"I told you, we don't _need_ directions!"  
"I'll remind you of that when we get lost and savaged by beasts, then split up and possibly killed!" She exclaimed, hand gestures all over the place.  
"You do that." He assured her. 


	2. Chapter 2

Cracks of lightning broke across the sky and thunder rolled along after it. The sky spat rain from the clouds, drenching all below it. Guinevere Wolfe seemed to feel that she was being targeted in particular, she could barely see for all the rain falling around her.  
"How long till we get there?" She moaned to her brother, despite the fact she had already asked him twenty-five times in the last two hours. The cold was getting to her, making her cranky and moody.  
"I've told you before," He said through gritted teeth. "I have no idea!"  
Guinevere allowed herself to let out a long groan at this. If there was one thing she hated, it was thunderstorms. Add to that the fact they were stuck in a creepy forest and she was completely out of her depth.  
"Can't we just turn back?" She suggested for what had to be the sixth time now. "I'm sure we can find somewhere to spend the night in Hogsmeade, and then make our way to Hogwarts tomorrow."  
"No!" Tristan insisted. "We will get to that goddam school tonight, even if it kills us!"  
"It probably will at this rate…" Guinevere said quietly, for her ears only.

The twins were probably too busy arguing to hear the growl the first time. After all, they were hungry, tired and a long way from home, in the middle of the night too. But the second time the growl rung across the forest air, they most definitely heard it.  
"What was that?" Tristan asked, failing to hide the fear in his voice.  
"I don't know…" Guinevere replied, clinging onto her trunk as if it would protect her.  
For a third time, the growl rumbled past them. And then it went silent.  
Suddenly, rushing past them at great speed, the creature that had been making that noise appeared. The so called 'creature' was in fact a werewolf, easily recognisable from their DADA books. Both twins dropped their trunks, paralysed with fear. It seemed to have not noticed them, to their great relief. Well, it hadn't noticed them to begin with is what _should _be said.  
"Stay. Completely. Still." Tristan whispered, not daring to move an inch. They seemed to manage this for a good portion of time as the werewolf sniffed around the forest floor. Until Guinevere sneezed.  
Finally alerted to its company, the werewolf snapped its head up to stare them in the eye; neither side broke the stalemate for some time. Instead circling each other, trying to devise a strategy. The werewolf finally snapped, lunging at them, claws outstretched.  
Tristan seemed to remember that he was in fact a wizard, and therefore had a wand, which unsurprisingly could be quite helpful. Digging it out of his pocket, he sent a stunning spell towards the werewolf. It seemed fazed for a moment, but soon picked up the attack again.  
"Guinevere! Run!" He yelled at her.  
"What?"  
"Just run!"  
She made a move to pick up the trunk closest to her, and then get to the next –  
"Don't bother with the trunks! Get out of here!" He yelled at her, frustrated.  
With one last glance at her brother, Guinevere ran.

Guinevere ran as if her life depended on it, still clutching that one trunk. When she fell, she forced herself back up again and carried on. She didn't let the ever-increasing rain stop her, or the terrifying cracks of thunder and lightning. And no matter how much she wanted to, she _couldn't_ turn back to find her brother.  
Because Guinevere Wolfe was completely and utterly lost. In a creepy forest. At midnight. With who knows what terrifying creatures. She had already encountered a werewolf, who was to say she wouldn't bump into an Acromantula, or maybe a Dragon…She was scaring herself silly with these thoughts and the creepy full moon and odd noises weren't helping one little bit.  
Just as she was about to give up all hope of ever finding Hogwarts, she caught a glimpse of a castle turret in the distance. Fuelled by this new hope, she changed direction so that she always had this in her line of sight. Eventually, one turret transformed into two, two into three and so on and so forth until she could see the whole castle.

She was stood at the front of the castle, before a magnificent pair of oak double doors. A brass knocker lay at the centre of the door and Guinevere thought it rather silly to have such a small knocker for such a grand door. Finding herself to be nervous, she lifted her shaking hand up and tapped the door once, twice, thrice until she felt stupid.  
Allowing herself to laugh for the first time in hours at her own stupidity, Guinevere took a few steps back and laid the trunk she held down before her. Using it as a seat, she sat down and prepared for the long wait. The heavens were still chucking rain down on her, but Guinevere no longer cared, she was too tired.

By the time an elderly wizard with a long, grey beard came to the door Guinevere was fast asleep. She did not stir as Albus Dumbledore took her into the castle and up towards the Hospital Wing. She still did not stir when she was laid down in a bed and tucked in tightly, the first time this had ever happened to her.  
And she did not stir when the old wizard said, "Goodnight Guinevere," then left.


End file.
